#autocorrect holy duck

[kalameruki]

Oh my God how in the world did I forget to post this here.

BEHOLD! FIRST ART OF THE NEW YEAR!

THE DREAD MALARD

They have a conference call at 10 AM that will go on for an hour and a half, but they normally go to bed after getting off of work at 8 AM! Behold their radiant "sick of this shit" energy!

[p4nishers]

crowley created the curse "holy fuck" only to create autocorrect and have it corrected to "holy duck". it wasn't his intention but u can bet ur ass he giggles every time he sees it

[softichill]

hourgh. I am affiliated with the curse.i was going to write afflicted but autocorrect decided to be funnier than me. Mom says my driving is getting better. But when she's in the car she makes me STRESSED. Also I made duck for the first time today. Holy fuck. Cook that duck in its own fat then stir fry vegetables in that same fat and it's one of the best things. It literally melted in my mouth it was THAT tender. I am so proud of cooking that. Electricity by the failed pilot 3 Dog Band.

OOO sounds delicious!! I'm making salmon tomorrow, but that's not as good as how that duck sounds!

CG5's Girl From Inkopolis remix!

[celestelunisea16]

FLUFF BE AT YOU

if Starlo ever misses Lucifer and can't really get to him for some reason he goes out and just. Takes out a rubber duck and stares at it a bit

(Yknow, there's angst potential in here too-)

Hnghhhhh, ANON PLEASEEEEEE, I'M GONNA TURN INTO A SCREAMIN' AND FLAILIN' MESSSSSS

(A lil' angst warning, Cowboys and Kingers!)

TW: Abandonment Issues, sleep deprivation, and reasoning for why Starlo hadn't heard from Lucifer (it's slightly hidden in the context clues)

---

If Starlo is, for some reason, unable to get to Lucifer, he would most definitely just take out a rubber duck, most likely the Deputy Duck Lucifer made him, and look at it.

If Lucifer's gone for like a short time, like a week or two with or without notice, he'll think of it as a soft reasoning. Same goes for long times with notice, he'll just miss him and stare at the duck with nostalgia and hope that Lucifer returns soon.

He just holds that duck close to him, pets it when he gets sad, looks at it for comfort in desperate situations, brings it out to make him confident with making decisions, and even sleeps with it at night so that it feels Lucifer will be there with him, even while he sleeps! (And so he doesn't feel alone at night. :( )

However, if Lucifer doesn't say anything about coming back after a long time, say, 3 or more weeks without notice or is gone longer than what he said he was going to be?

The man is completely zoned out with just staring out at the duck and when he got it from Lucifer, only for it to start making him remember from when he got it to times with Lucifer spent together before and after.

This poor man is just staring at the thing for hours and even sometimes longer, as he's either trying to get his crystal to work or trying to get telepathic communication with Lucifer again. Only for both attempts to fail horribly and if Lucifer doesn't come back after a long time, Starlo ends up back at the Fiestyj (autocorrect, this is the only time you saved me) Five hideout, sitting curled up in a ball, holding his knees in his arms.

You know what he's also got right in front of/beside him?

That duck.

He only takes his eyes off of it when Ceroba visits to check on him or whenever he needs to sleep. (In this case, since he gets restless, it is rare.) It's just fully in his sights. It's rare for him to eat too, but when he does, he brings it with him to eat.

Starlo tries to think that Lucifer is ok... Lucifer has to be ok...

Lucifer is ok.

He is fine.

He has to be ok.

He's almost immortal, nothing wrong can happen to him, right?

He's fine, Starlo, don't be overthinking.

He's coming back for you.

He said he'd see you tomorrow, maybe he forgot or got busy!

Maybe he's just spending time at the hotel with his daughter or doing something that deals with extermination again.

Maybe he's just taking a nap at the palace.

No Angel could defeat him without being skillful and having a holy weapon, could they? He's the strongest sin in the universe(s)! He has to be ok!

Yeah, maybe he's just taking a year break! Or maybe he's just taking a year's nap? He'll come back after the year's over...

The duck tipped over once and he picked it up. It's surprising how the duck finally fell after a year, even when Starlo kept his eye on it. Nothing even touched it! After that, it never fell again.

Weird... Oh well, guess he can continue staring at the duck and awaiting for Lucifer to return!

----

(What if I told you the small angst was hidden in context clues?)

(What if I told you, you're gonna have to look for it yourself? ;))

(Man, ain't I a stinker!)

(Tip <- This is your hint.)

(... If you give up, check the tags-)

[2bearsinatrenchcoat]

some of mine:

• the phrase “holy fuck” (with the help of aziraphale, interpret that how you will)

• clocks resetting to 12:00/0:00 when power goes out

• yearning and/or pining

• the use of angel as a pet name

• fuck autocorrecting to duck

• giving people chocolates on valentine’s day

• mediocre songs that get stuck in your head making it to the top of the charts

if any of these sound familiar to you it’s because i’ve taken headcanons i’ve seen before and added them to my collection, i am NOT trying to steal these from anybody

things i headcanon Crowley invented:

only one sock disappearing in the washer/dryer. you know the one

youtube ads

gum on shoes

that one wobbly wheel on every shopping cart

you know when you're in traffic and one lane is going faster than the one you're in, so you switch to that one, but now this one's going slower than the other? that. it's one he often regrets.

back when wired earbuds were a thing - only one of them going bad

Nessie - an accident. he went swimming in his snake form once and someone took a blurry picture

unsynced audio or subtitles on media

pineapple on pizza - he did it to piss of Aziraphale

instagram poetry

pens/markers than run out of ink by the 3rd day (i'm looking at you Sharpies)

airplane food

the very common phenomenon when you forget your old password, go to reset it, and then get told your "new password can't be the same as your old password"

long red light/short green light

shower knobs that can't ever get the right temperature, it's either 3rd degree burns or hypothermia

crocs

feel free to add your ownnn

[insaneillusionist]

Holy shit usually I type fucking and it autocorrects to ducking but today I typed ducking and it autocorrected to fucking.

[fiftyfourstuff]

do i like him back or do i just crave the feeling of being liked ?

[earhartsease]

holy gods I just learned that if you add a contact called "fuck" on your phone, your autocorrect no longer turns fuck into duck and I'm spreading this news far and wide

as usual it's all down to who you know

[sor-vette]

#11 Sh*t, again

“It’s a refurbished student housing,” you explain as they trail after you like ducks in a row. Even if they don’t understand what you’re saying, they seem to be clinging to every word. Wherever you look there’s always at least one pair of doe eyes staring expectantly back at you a.k.a. what do you do when you open your doors and find a certain retired boyband for some reason wants to move in

▶ type: ot7 x fem! reader (poly)

▶ word count: 3.4k

▶ series’ masterlist

▶ other works

▶t/w: description of panic attacks/inability to breathe, allusions to trauma and dysfunctional family relationship, crippling self-hatred (more like self - disgust I guess), crying.

▶ a/n: day drinking, loves, and wailing over all of your comments and reblogs (T＿T) thank god for autocorrect. This was a very hard and very personal chapter to write, so it might not be good quality-wise, but it advances the plot

You look unto the reflection, bracing against the airport counter. The person, if it was that, looks exhausted in the mirror, worn out like a shoe in a trek far too heavy for its structure.

“That was a mistake.”

It was a mistake.

You let the words cut deep, repeating the moment over and over and over again like singularly cutting in the same place. The pain and the embarrassment will cauterize the wounded self-worth. After a while, you will feel nothing at all. Despite Hoseok being a surprising addition, he was in the end just another silhouette in the long list of people who made mistakes.

And that happened. You couldn't force anyone to like you or stay around and for one not saying that being with you was a mistake. No, you could only pick up what was discarded and hopefully, finally, learn the lesson that sometimes one just had to stop trying.

"This would have never happened if you would have stayed away," you mumble snidely to the reflection.

They're not your boyfriends for all that's holy, not your friends, just roommates.

You stare ahead and force the tension out of your shoulders, to grow numb as though shrugging off pesky, clinging fingers away from your heart. Far, far away. Just roommates, strangers, not your friends. You didn't care what they thought, your only job was to glide through this unmarked.

Even so, the frown in the mirror remains bitter.

The living room is silent now, greyer even - without you in it. Taehyung hauls the last suitcase into the hallway but he goes through the motions on an auto-pilot. Jimin discards the briefly lived hope of the Curse being lifted.

Hoseok rocks on the couch, face hidden in his knees, shoulders shaking in quiet, muffled sobs.

"Just yell at me, please," he once again begs Yoongi who hovers above him with a blank expression.

"No."

"Then let me go home."

"No."

Hoseok unexpectedly springs up, face unrecognizable, caught somewhere awful between grief and outrage. Yoongi stands unfazed even if he has to crane upwards to meet Hoseok's frenzied glare.

"Damn it, you bastard! Can't you see I'm ruining everything!"

"So what?" Yoongi arches a judgemental brow.

A tense pause descends upon them. Tension is so thick, no one dares to breathe and in the space of their home, the only sound to be heard is Jungkook biting his nails, eyes wide and frightened, flitting between everyone present.

"What do you mean "so what"?" Hoseok hisses and Yoongi's lips curl in annoyance.

"So what if you ruin everything? Do you really think I'm going to let you go because of it? You're not going to take the easy way out of this, Mr Jung, so stop trying!"

Hoseok slumps, all fight leaving at once.

"Mr Jung?" he echoes, with the faintest of smiles peaking through the otherwise solemn expression.

Yoongi flushes.

"I said what I said," he huffs defensively, leaving to sit down.

Jin reaches around Hoseok's chest, squeezing him tightly.

"Yoongi is right, we're not giving up on you and you're not giving up on us. Right, Tae?"

Taehyung brushes past, dabbing away the wetness on Hoseok's face with his sleeve.

"Right," he affirms.

Once they settled down, Namjoon cracked his neck and with a determination that once swayed nations, walks in front.

"First of all, I'm sorry to all of you."

As expected they begin to protest. He holds out a hand.

"Let me finish. As your leader, I've failed to get us all together on one page and I'm sorry that some of you have felt unheard," he glanced at Hoseok. "Or cast to the side."

Jungkook squirmed in his seat when that almost too caring gaze paused on him.

"We've been through this before - fights, unspoken thoughts. Jin's already thirty - "

"Pre-historic," Jungkook muttered to himself, earning a light laugh.

" - surely we're not that stupid to not learn anything after all this time. I know that this is unpleasant but we're going to sit here and honestly talk about it until everything that needs to be said is out. So, Jungkook, take the stage."

The addressed jumps, pointing one unsure finger towards his chest.

"Me?"

Namjoon nodded.

"Yes, you. You've been the most open from the start so if you could help us to do the same, we... I'd be grateful."

Jungkook looked around, abruptly feeling like he was back in school, called to a board to solve an equation he did not know the answer to. Shyly, he shuffled to the front, backside reflecting in the mirror above the fireplace, wringing his hands.

"Um...we can do...um... "I feel statements?" he suggests near inaudibly and the reaction is underwhelming. He rattles his mind to find something more meaningful but you leaving, trailing red suitcase behind, is the only thing flashing before his eyes.

"Or..." Jungkook begins tepidly then gathering himself. This was not school and his soulmates were not teachers. "Maybe we can be honest with each other about why we haven't told her the truth."

Suspense surges to new heights whilst they all eye each other.

"We agreed - " Jimin bleats but Jungkook interrupts him softly, knowing their collective defence mechanisms like the back of his hand.

"I know we agreed but there was a reason as to why. And it's not just because it's crazy."

Jungkook takes in the sight of his elders resembling little kids before scolding. Regardless, he would do what he always did - he'd protect them. Sometimes even from themselves.

"Yeah, I guess, we'll start there."

Echoes of applause ring all around as the room is submerged into darkness.

You numbly lower your arms to your lap, not listening to the speech about building sustainability but thinking of home.

Was the heating connected or were they cold, did they put away the laundry? Was Hoseok smoking right now?

Angrily, you scuff your shoe against the floor, puffing at the podium. It was not your place to ask these questions. You were just their roommate.

"That was a mistake."

Yeah, it was a mistake. Maybe all of it.

A weight suddenly drops down next to you. You don't even attempt to hinder the "fuck you want" expression naturally appearing once you slowly turn around to rip into this guy. But he seems unbothered.

There's a very, very big smile on his face sat below two sparkly, dark eyes. Automatically your attention travels towards the screaming blue hair. His suit, as well, was blue along with the shirt, but somehow he pulled the triple monochrome off - not an easy task you have to give him that. On his wrist was a watch and in it - a picture of Moomin.

"Hello!" he greeted you happily, having an aura not so vaguely reminiscent of a Labrador puppy.

"You're shaking," you point out in the flattest tone imaginable.

The guy looks down at his bouncing leg...s. He was barely sitting at this point, more so levitating.

"I am!" he exclaims as if the information was indeed new. You wait for him to continue but he doesn't. He just...stares at you with this wide, psychotic grin.

"What's your name?"

"Jae!"

"Okay, Jae, do you often tremble like a wet dog in front of strangers?"

He barks a burst of laughter in surprise, so loud it travels throughout the room and after it, there fly several dozen off-put glares. You look straight ahead, pretending not to be existent.

"Sorry, I just...wait a minute!"

As quietly as possible, he leaves the chair and then to your never-ending bewilderment returns back, suddenly sober.

"Hello, my name is Jae, as you can see I'm completely normal and I'm a big fan of yours."

You gingerly accept his outstretched hand. It's disturbingly damp.

"You're still shaking."

"I had twelve energy drinks," he vibrates gaily.

"So then I saw you and I couldn't believe my eyes so I stood in the corner, thinking of whether to say "hi" or "hello", you know which one would be more professional but then I thought maybe professional would be the wrong choice, it would create this distance but "hey" is so inappropriate, it's too casual - "

Jesus Christ. And you thought you were overthinking. Jae was pacing in the front of you like a humanoid sonic or perhaps an overgrown hummingbird. Ten minutes of talking and he hadn't even gotten to the point.

"Hey, hey," you calp to get his attention, "you mentioned something about being a fan?"

"Oh, yeah, we went to the same school! Or I guess, I'm still going...Raffles!"

That explained very little.

"You see, I'm starting my last year, well, I started it already, well, I'm kind of on a leave - "

You hope to squeeze the headache away.

"Please get to it."

"Okay, in five steps. I need a Master's degree. I don't know what to write. The only thesis I liked is yours. I become your intern and get inspired. Stonks."

At the last word, he snaps his fingers.

"Stonks?"

"It's a meme. Means profit."

"Yes, I know what it means," you shift on the plush bench outside the conference room.

"Listen, kid - "

"I'm only two years younger than you," Jae pouts, barely restraining himself from launching through the roof at this point.

"How many times did you get an extension?!"

Jae twiddles with his thumbs, ears turning pink. Like Jin's. You shake yourself away from that tangent.

"Two years perhaps..."

"Mancini gave you a two-year extension?!" you can't help but gape in disbelief. That old rag didn't even pardon a week for a belated essay as far as you knew.

"He said he'll give me anything if I just stop talking and get out of his office."

"Checks out. As I was saying, it's flattering that you like my thesis but for one, I'm not in a position to have interns, for two if you don't even have a topic after what? A year? The best for you, is to just hunker down and do some serious work, not wait - "

"It's all a bunch of nonsense, anyway."

....

....

....

No.

No.

Please.

No.

You recognize that voice. You'd know it in the dead of night. It was always somewhere in the back of your mind, unwilling to leave, continuing to haunt you despite the distance.

It hadn't changed at all. Was as sharp as it had been when it kicked you out of home.

Your body moves despite your brain being frozen, leaping behind Jae, hiding, like a child would.

She is older but to you as intimidating as she had always been and all it really takes is a mere look for everything that you built to crumble into dust.

Funny or maybe just ironic that the first memory you've ever had was with her. New Year's. The change between 1999 to 2000, standing in a city square and watching numerous fireworks. You'd felt small in your mother's hands but back then it was safe, protecting. The point of passing when that safety became terror and smallness became powerlessness wasn't just blurred, it was non-existent. You had your first memory and then - quiet, tears, fear. Fear which you once again felt as your heart came to a sharp stop even as an adult.

Jae abruptly stops as he becomes your makeshift shield and you listen in to the conversation when your mother and her colleagues pass by. Or more accurately you try to listen but all you hear is rushing of blood in your ears and heartbeat in your throat. You'd never see her again, it's what you wished and what she yelled. It was in any way the only thing you ever agreed about.

They discuss plans, office plans, and something about new design but you can't focus as you take in her every movement, vigilant about possible discovery. Part of you, tiny, rebellious, resentful, is curious what would she do would you make contact - would she ask, would she wonder what became of her daughter or would she ignore you, letting her gaze go past you as if you were nothing but a bare stool, shoved to the side of the wall. That relentlessly angry part of you wants to scream, wants to jeer and mock her to just for once, for once, make her feel everything you felt but a much more present part would never dare - it was no use. No matter how hard you'd scream and fight, your words would fall flat and your punches would bring no injury. Imagine trying to push a tsunami and try not to feel defenceless. With every single muscle in your body aflame with tension, you wait as she passes and you remain unseen. Invisible. A ghost in your own life.

You try to brush it off like nothing happened but as the seconds drag it's you who's falling.

"So, listen, I," you speak but it's nonsense. Shivery nonsense.

You're quivering.

It's not cold.

In your hand there's a pen, you meant to write something down but it falls as your fingers involuntary let it go, growing increasingly catatonic by the second.

The words that should form in your brain then travel through your mouth, go too fast, so you stumble upon them, tripping.

"I - I."

Too fast, you can't think.

You can't breathe.

You can't breathe.

"I - I've got to go," you manage to pant out, rushing through the emergency exit and down the stairs, walls mingling together and squeezing around like a chokehold around your throat.

You can't breathe.

You crash through the door and onto the brick wall of the contemporary museum building, pulling in short, panicked breaths one after another, but they don't reach the end of your lungs.

You can't breathe.

A moment too late you realize you're having a panic attack.

Repetitively, you strike your palm against the brick, running desperately out of air, even underneath the open sky of New York.

Rats go past you, fumes and car noises and the world is simultaneously too small, locking you like a spider in a jar, and too big, in which you're all alone and with nothing to protect you with.

You can't breathe.

In time, even this passes, leaving your skin too hot and your legs barely working. Bracing yourself against the dirty wall, you guide yourself out the alleyway and into the street. You left your coat back in the wardrobe, your bag, all of your things but she's there and the simple thought of ever seeing her again hitches your breath and has your knees in danger of giving out, right here on the street. You can't do that, there are people watching.

Just go, just leave, go.

You warily look around, trying to see if anyone has noticed you acting strangely, but it's New York. No one cares.

You will yourself to walk, step by step, little by little, you did it again, you can do it once more.

But every time it feels like dying.

In wild, there are very few species of animals, that survived leaving their home early. They died. The lone wolf was not glamorous, it was weak and often passed away alone and abandoned. You wonder if humans were the same.

But you were an adult, adults left their homes, built their own nests and were not hindered by their past. It's just that it never felt like you were an adult. Growing older, yes, but not increasing in strength or confidence, remaining this - running, hiding away in empty rooms, waiting for the bad times to pass. They never did.

Look at the people on the streets, adults with their lives. They all looked so sure of themselves, never questioning the right to be here, rushing towards their many endeavours and businesses. Their own families, lovers, friends. They were normal.

God, you wanted to be normal.

You just want to be okay, to not be this. To be normal, to have a normal life, have a home to return to and not sit watching the cascading light of streetlamps night after night, unable to sleep.

You just want to be normal.

Please, make it stop.

You'll never be normal.

You'll always be this pathetic little thing. Unable to speak. Unable to say. Unable to love or be loved. Alone.

You can't breathe again.

Please, just make it stop.

But the second time, you can't stop. Tears slip on your dry, wind bitten cheeks. It hurts.

It doesn't stop.

You're making a scene, you're being a freak, everyone's looking at you. You're being a freak. They're going to see you.

The second time it's greater. There's not a clear thought in your skull, just panic, flashes of various fears pounding at your chest, until every passerby is a threat, every moment outside is a danger.

You're going to die. They're going to laugh at you.

You can't breathe.

You rush into a coffee shop by the looks of it, running towards the white door with a restroom sign atop it. You slam the doors shut and fall to the floor, gasping for air, any air.

This. This is what you'll always be for the rest of your life. Never becoming better, never being actually okay. This is what you were. This

Shaking, you hit your palm against the floor, trying to relieve the bubble that squeezes your chest with sharp pain, pushing the air away from your lungs.

But it doesn't go away, it doesn't stop. You don't think it ever will.

"Jungkookie, you can't feel someone's else's emotions," his mother coos, wiping the ice cream away from his face. But he's sure he can. It was early August day, sunny and warm and he was walking with his parents through the park, ice cream in hand, he should be happy but he's not. He's cold and he wants to cry.

He might be five years old but he's certain that the reason why this feeling doesn't make sense, it's because it was not his.

He wakes up with start, forehead covered in sweat. The living room is dark as they all sleep fitfully on the cold floor with blankets and pillows thrown haphazardly around. After the conversation that they just had, they couldn't bear to part to their own rooms, to leave anyone behind.

It's night now. The window is dark and there's not a sound outside. Unlike Seoul, this city did sleep.

He's sweating and it's not because he has six other figures pressing into him, in one way or another. He can't breathe. There's this pressure in his chest and he can't think or breathe. He pushes fingers against his thundering heart, eyes welling with tears at the darkness.

He thinks your having a panic attack.

He's felt this echo before.

But you're so far away, he can't reach out to you. He can't comfort you, he can't protect you, he can't save you like he did them.

Jungkook lifts Taehyung's hand away from his waist and untangles Namjoon's legs from his, wobbling outside the door, careful to not step on the creaky spots on the floor.

The air is crisp and exceptionally cold. Their street is barren, lined with trees, cars and yellow rays of street lamps. His heart is beating too harshly still, as he tries to regain his breath, one exhale after the next. The echo dims away and the only connection he has to you, whether imaginary or real, he loses it too.

He looks upward, eyes growing too warm for his liking.

"Just punish me," he asks of the being that put them all together. "If this is a grudge, if you're repaying for what they said last time, just punish me instead. I'll take it, I swear!"

He recalls the woman standing in the tarot shop door in Daehangno, looking exasperated at weeping Jungkook, wringing his school bag in between his sweaty palms.

"You said I could do it, make everything okay, that I had a gift," he sniffles through the memory, trying to picture every small bit of her expression. It's all but fog with colours. Moments, possibly hours pass as he stands in the middle of the road, looking up at no one.

"Guess, you lied."

previous ⟷ next

a/n: okay, so 1. the last scene with Jungkook probably doesn't make any sense now. The context will be given when we get his .5 chapter which I think will be after the next one. 2. The angst will continue into chapter 12 as we keep unpacking all of this family situation and move onto the next phase reader will have with the boys. Think of it like season two of a TV show. 3. If any of y'all come for Jae, say goodbye to your kneecaps, he is my baby 😤 4. Raffles short for RM Istituto Moda e Design in Milano. A real school, never been, probably will be so inaccurately portrayed further on as well as the entire interior designer profession, sorry to them

[awakening5]

I have been reading your fics and oh my GOD they’re so fucking good, the plot, the perfect balance of angst and fluff, the way you illustrate their emotions so strong and passionate I am so in awe of your writing

I just finished you look really petty and holy shit that fic fucked me up. I am not the same. The ducking raw emotion, the desperation, the love. I’m going ducking feral. I can’t stop thinking about Peter eventually reuniting with Ned. Like he’s so scared bc it’s been so long but he really wants to. MJ arranging Ned to come over. Maybe it’s a surprise and he’s so in shock he breaks down. Or he knows he’s coming over and he’s so anxious the whole time he’s waiting and he breaks down the second he sees him. EITHER WAY HES BREAKING DOWN! Man the fucking feelings, the healing, the LOVE. It’s 3am I need to sleep but I can’t stop thinking about this

Also the smut. Oh my GOD the smut. Absolutely fucking chefs kiss. Some of the best smut on the market you heard it here folks.

THANK YIY FOR SHARING YOUR WORDS AND MAJIGN ME FEEL THINGS

— @mjsespressocup

Okay, but this is just the greatest! Every additional sentence just made my day brighter and brighter. When 'ducking' started popping up, it only made me happier. Because you know what? if it's autocorrect, then that's amazing. And if it's you deciding to censor yourself sometimes and not others, then that's just as amazing.

And then the joy of it being an anonymous ask but then you SIGN it?? Galaxy brained. Dunno why, but I love it so much. And if it's some rando who decided to do an anon ask but put some other person's name on it? Also hilarious. And a great blog to boot @mjsespressocup

I'm so glad you enjoyed my fic! It's definitely one of my favs. Featuring too much smut, too much tragedy, and the perfect amount of petty acquaintances to lovers. I, too, like to think that MJ eventually convinces Peter to let Ned back into his life. She's gonna be a real nice influence in his life.

You're the sweetest and absolutely made my day!

[dakt37]

Holy shit. Della Duck being missing because of the Sleeping Beauty Curse and timey-wimey stuff is an awesome explanation. :D

Also laughed when Dora pointed out that Daisy shares the same last name as Donald and AREN'T related. Lol.

Haha thanks! And per your follow up message about the typo, no worries; I speak fluent autocorrect.

Shout-out to @dreamweirder for being the one to suggest Della goes missing through a warp hole in the first place, and kick-starting my whole thought train.

[sapphosboy]

When you’re trying to type “holy fuck” but it autocorrects to “holy duck”:

[lookysquarescomics]

one time it replaced “f*ck autocorrect” with “duck autocracy” and i straight up cried. :^(

[impala-dreamer]

Watch Your F!cking Mouth!

SPN FanFic

~Dean gets whammied with an especially frustrating curse and Y/N tries to keep him calm, much to her amusement and annoyance.~

Dean x Reader

1,984 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Foul Language. Oral Sex. Intercourse. Comedy.

A/N: I'll be honest, this took me all day to write because I kept stopping to laugh. I just... Idek. It's ridiculous. Enjoy :)

My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon

“Son of a broadcaster!”

Y/N looked up as Dean stumbled backwards, reaching down to rub his shin after whacking it against the bedpost.

“Still?” she asked; hint of a laugh on her breath.

“Yeah, yeah, shuttie.” He rolled his eyes and stood up, limping his way towards the couch. "You know, this is some real hogswallop! I mean what the fig!"

Y/N's laugh broke free and Dean growled as he fell down onto the sofa.

"This isn't funny! It's balderdash!"

Trying to calm down, Y/N put her book down and frowned at him. "I'm sorry, baby. This is really fucked up. Super funny...but fucked up."

"It's not ducking funny!" he shouted, sulking into the cushions. "What the fork kinda nasty basted witch curses someone like this? It's like my tongue has flagging autocorrect!"

"I only got like half of that, to be honest."

“Please shut the freight up and leave me be.” Dean sighed, letting his head fall against the seat back. “I just wanna be able to open my gold digging mouth and have the right frosted words come out!”

Quickly, Y/N left her seat and went to him, hating to see him so frustrated, even if it made her laugh harder than she had in a long time. For the last six hours, Dean had been cursed with the inability to curse as if he were stuck on some network television show. The worst he’d been able to muster was a ‘freakin’’ when Sam had knocked over his beer, but after a while, he just gave up and stopped talking. It was quiet without him, but Y/N couldn’t imagine how tough it was to think one thing and have your tongue twist it into another.

“Hey,” she said softly, perching on the coffee table in front of him. “Sam said it should only last a few more hours. Then you’ll be back to cursing like the sailor I know and love.”

“It’s not just that,” he said with a whimper, shaking his head at the ceiling. “I can not curse, it’s not like I have to constantly-”

“I know, baby,” she soothed, placing her hand on his knee.

“It’s just that I should be able to say what I wanna say when I flamingo say it!”

Y/N coughed to hide her laugh and Dean’s head popped up, his eyes narrowed on her smirk. “Don’t laugh at me, please. For frying sake, it actually hurts. Like there’s a sharp pain in the front of my head every time I try to say ‘fling’.” Dean pointed to the spot, right above his left eyebrow and cringed as he tried to curse. “Salad dressing! Gah!”

“Well, stop, ya moron!” Y/N teased, scooting a big closer. “Just stop talking!”

Dean glared. “Do you have any idea how hard that is for me? Come on.”

“You wanna talk about your feelings about where our relationship is going? That shuts you up quick.”

Her smirk was on point.

His eye roll was superb.

Y/N sighed but kept a sweet smile. “Dean, just...relax, OK? It’ll be over soon, I promise.” Her fingers curled around his knee.

He let out a breath and his shoulders dropped a bit. “Fine. Yeah.”

“There’s my good boy,” she teased, pushing her hand slowly up his thick thigh, nails dragging on the rough denim as she came back down. “Just relax.”

Dean shivered as her thumb brushed over his dick. “This is… quite relaxing… farm…”

Y/N bit her lip to keep from laughing, wanting to focus on distracting them both from his new speech impediment. “Shh…” Her palm rubbed against him and Y/N felt his cock push back, growing hard beneath the tightness of his jeans.

“Feels so nice, baby,” he whispered, wiggling his ass against the seat to try and ease the strain. “Love when you play with my coins.”

She let out a deep, slow breath to calm her giggles and set her other hand on his leg, sliding off of the table onto her knees. “I like it too, Dean,” she cooed, massaging his inner thighs with both hands. “But you know what I love?”

His eyes glazed over as he looked to her in lustful anticipation.

She bit her lip and reached for his belt, easily loosening the leather strap. “I love…” The brass button came free with a pop. “Sucking…” She eased the zipper down slowly, carefully. “Your big…” Reaching in, she pushed aside the thin cotton of his boxers. “Beautiful…” She pulled him free and Dean moaned in desperation as she bent her lips to the swelling head. “Cock.”

“Oh, Jiminy Christmas!”

Y/N kissed the tip and Dean whimpered pitifully.

“Please…”

“Love it when you beg, Dean,” she growled, flicking the tip of her tongue against the base of his cock, watching as he twitched. “Such a good boy.”

Dean lifted his hips as she licked a stripe from base to tip and grabbed a fistful of her hair, forcing her to hold still while he groaned. “Stop forging teasing me and get to work.”

Her smile was abandoned as Dean jerked his hips, shoving his cock between her lips. She hummed in excitement and sucked hard, sealing her lips around him as his hand pushed her down.

“Yes...fang...you take my cab so good, baby.”

His cock hit the back of her throat and Y/N gagged loudly, drool spilling from the corners of her mouth as he released his hold on her head.

“Flame, baby, love that sound. Makes my drum so hard.”

Y/N did her best not to laugh, trying to ignore his insane dirty talk and keep her mind on her task. As long as he didn’t talk, she was fine, working his cock like a pro, teasing and taking him deeper and deeper with each pass.

When his breath quickened and his moans became dark, Y/N pulled back, looking up at him with innocent, wide eyes, her lips bobbing gently over his leaking head.

Dean reached for her, big hands closing around the soft flesh of her upper arms. “Get up here,” he breathed. “Golly, I wanna factor that sweet little poinsetta so faking bad.”

She laughed, she couldn’t help it. Y/N closed her eyes and sealed her lips tight as the chuckle shook her entire body. “I can’t. I’m so sorry, Dean. I can’t.”

His grip tightened on her arms. “Please.” His face was red, muscles in his throat tense and exposed; a thin sheet of sweat sparkled on his brow and upper lip. “Please, baby. I gotta falafel you. Now.”

Dean grit his teeth in a growl but Y/N couldn’t take much more.

“Baby,” she laughed, sitting back on her heels, “I...I can’t…”

Green eyes went wide with pained disappointment. “What? No…” He reached for her, leaning forward to grab her face between his warm hands. “Please, Y/N. Don’t leave me like this,” he begged, the pathetic yet passionate tone in his voice making her pussy throb. “I need you so bad.”

While Y/N pondered the situation, wondering if she could stash her giggles while he took her for a ride, Dean sucked his bottom lip fully between his teeth and then slowly let it slide back out, wet and red and swollen. Y/N’s cunt clenched and her heart raced; her fate was sealed.

“Please.”

Y/N sucked in a deep breath and jumped up, opening her jeans as she stood. “OK,” she told him firmly, “but you keep your mouth shut. I can’t take anymore, I really can’t.”

Dean’s gleeful smile was perfection, dimples and lines and bright teeth on display. “Yes, totally. No more talking.” He zipped his lips with two fingers and nodded enthusiastically as she peeled her panties away. “Not another word.”

“You promise?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

Dean held his breath as Y/N climbed into his lap, kissing him hard while she gripped his cock and rubbed it through her slick. His eyes rolled back when she rolled her hips, grinding her clit against his hardness; grabbed her thighs as she slowly sank down.

“Oh…f-”

Y/N bit down hard on his lip to stop his cursed cursing and his words turned into a yelp instead.

“R-ride me,” he gasped, blunt nails digging into her tender flesh.

Setting her hands on his shoulders, Y/N began to ride, slowly bouncing in his lap and watching as he fell apart.

“Y/N…” Dean buried his face in her shirt, panting as he struggled to hold his tongue.

“Shhh…” Y/N fucked down hard, hoping to distract his brain, pull his mouth away from words and push it towards empty whimpers and lustful moans.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, breath heavy against her neck as he kissed any place he could reach. “Feel so good on my camp, fringe!”

Y/N slapped a hand to the back of his head and tugged at his short hair. “Dean!”  

“Sorry, sassafras! Flange, it just- you feel so amazing. Please, don’t stop!”  

Her nails scraped across his scalp. “Then shut up!”

“Yes. Shut up. Yes!”

She licked into his mouth and bounced faster, feeling the moment blossom.

“Holy feathers, I-I’m gonna capitalize! Fire! Freckles!”

“Do it,” she moaned, tugging on his hair until his chin lifted to hers. “Give it to me, Dean.”

It did not take long. Dean held her close, arms tight around her back, hands pawing at her shoulders and ass as he came, a strangled cry filling the room.

“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!”

Y/N laughed so hard she nearly fell off of his lap, giving up entirely on cumming or trying to stay calm. “Did you just? Really? Oh my god, Dean.”

He kissed her cheek and pulled his lips across, capturing her shaking lips with a sloppy kiss. “Shh…”

“Don’t shush me, Winchester,” she laughed, kissing him back quickly before peeling herself away. “This is too much.”

He caught her hand before she went too far, yanking her back so hard that she fell into his arms. “I’m not done with you,” he said firmly, another kiss stopping her laugh and melting every muscle. Dean pushed her down onto her back, shifting to sit between her legs. “You need to confetti.”

She whimpered around a laugh as Dean leaned down, laying kiss after kiss on her belly. “Please stop talking…”

He lifted his eyes to hers with a smirk as his hands wrapped around her thighs. “I’m done talking,” he said, licking his lips. “I’m gonna eat this prism until you crank all over my face.”

“Jesus christ, shut up!”

Her frustration turned to pleasure as Dean kept his word, sucking hard on her clit as his fingers caressed her pulsing cunt, massaging deep inside as her body writhed above.

“Fuck! Dean!”

He never let up, drawing her orgasm out until her legs began to shake. When her thighs clamped around his head, he slowed to a kitten lick, enjoying the glow of her smile and the sexy whimpers as she came down.

“Come here,” she whispered, releasing his head and reaching for him, needing him close.

Dean smiled sweetly and wiped his mouth before sliding up her body and collapsing on top of her. “Damn, baby,” he sighed. “That was fan-fucking-tastic.”

Y/N gasped, eyes wide and smiling. “Oh my god, Dean! You said fuck!”

“I did?”

“...yeah!”

“I didn’t even notice. Fuck. Oh! I said it again!” He grinned like a school boy and laughed. “Yes! Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fucking fucker!” Excited, he jumped off of the couch and pumped a fist in the air. “Fuck that fucking bitch-ass witch in her ratty old cunt! Fuck yes! This is fucking awesome!”

Y/N sat up, shaking her head as she reached for her pants. “Oh, Dean,” she sighed. “Such a fucking potty mouth…”

2020 Forever Tags: @67-chevy-baby @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @autumnmoon @because-imma-lady-assface @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @coopercharlie16 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwinchesterswitch @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @eternal-elir @fandom-princess-forevermore @fangirlxwritesx67 @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @ivvitm1109 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @mellbelle45 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @the-chocolate-moose @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55 @wendibird @winecatsandpizza @winterpoohbear

and bc I think you could use a laugh: @kittenofdoomage​

[thiswasinevitableid]

24 for danbrey, nsfw please!

24: i’m absentmindedly making snowflakes in class and you’re the nerd who can’t quit glaring at me every time you hear my scissors. It is NSFW

If they were in one of the big lecture halls, Dani would not be having this problem. But the twenty-odd person room means the snipping of scissors is irritatingly audible. The noise is coming from behind and to the left of her. Turning her head, she spots the culprit; a girl wearing a denim vest under her coat, whose curly black hair is streaked with fiery red. 

She’s cute, but Dani is still going to steal her scissors the first chance she gets. 

There’s another tell-tale “snipsnip” and she glares over her shoulder, willing the scissors to melt. When that doesn’t happen, she looks up and finds the other girl smirking at her, then sending a wink her way. 

Shoot, she’s holding the scissors at a level where it 100% looked like Dani was staring at her chest.

She flips her attention back to the front of the room. A flurry of snips makes her look back again. 

The girl has made a heart instead of a snowflake. When Dani notices it, the other girl smiles. She looks even better when she smiles. 

Damn it. 

---------------------------

“Hi!”

The unexpected greeting makes Dani jump. It’s the Thursday lecture, and snowflake girl has sat down right next to her. 

“Uh. Hi?”

“You’re Dani, right?”

“Yeeah? How did you know?”

“Um, because Professor Chicane takes role, and you always sit in front of me so I can see you when you respond. I’m Aubrey.”

“Dani.”

“Um, so, I’m sorry if the snowflakes were, like, distracting you on Tuesday. I do better in class when I have something to do with my hands but I can, like, doodle instead if it bugs you.”

“I just get a little on-edge from noise sometimes, it’s no big--wait. If you thought you were bugging me why’d you make a heart?”

“Because I thought there was also a chance you were flirting and I wanted to hedge my bets just in case.”

Dani blushes; she had no idea anyone could see her annoyed face and still hope she was flirting with them.

“Oh, crap, class is gonna start, I’m gonna move to my normal spot. The one with the nice view.” Aubrey winks over her shoulder and Dani impulsively blows her a kiss. 

Aubrey sits down next to a short guy in “Monongahela National Forest” sweatshirt and whispers something in his ear. He high fives her. 

Dani spends much of the lecture looking over her shoulder, even though Aubrey keeps the snowflakes to a minimum. In fact, she only makes one, which she leaves on Dani’s desk as she’s packing up her laptop. Written in the center of it, in red ink, is a phone number.

----------------------------------

Ideally, Aubrey would not have asked her out two weeks before the end of the semester, when Dani has to go back home for winter break. But they make the most of it. There are lots of “study” dates that involve more handsy make-outs than flash-cards, nights and afternoons snuggled up against each other in the little coffee shop by Aubrey’s apartment, and a memorable evening during which they discovered Aubrey’s immense, black rabbit, Dr. Harris Bonkers, PhD, ate through the cord on the rechargeable vibrator (luckily before they plugged it in rather than after).

When break came, Aubrey walked her to the train station and kissed her goodbye, using Dr. Harris Bonkers paw to wave farewell as the train pulled away and down the tracks. 

They text every day, Facetime or Skype at least once a day, usually when Dani has settled in for bed. She’s more than a little glad her brother is staying with his partner over the holidays; the walls of their rooms are thin and the two of theirs are next to each other. Jake stopped eavesdropping on her around the time he hit twelve years old, but the habit of not being able to quite relax while on the phone in her room remains. 

She’s extra glad for it tonight, because she wants to show off a Christmas gift she bought herself (or, more accurately, she bought for the express purpose of riling up her girlfriend).  The lace is a little fussier than she tends to buy, but it makes such cool leaf patterns, the pastel green and gold of the bra making her look stunning and the matching underwear hugging the curve of her ass in a way, if she does say so herself, is really flattering. But she’s more interested in what Aubrey thinks. 

Fireblossom: Holy shit

Dani: You like it?

Fireblossom: Uh, yeah? Why are you so far away instead of here when I can show you how hot you look?

She laughs at the string of emojis that comes through next; flames, peaches, kissy lips, and…

Fireblossom: Sorry, moth emoji is from texting Duck to tease him about his crush. Did you for real buy that just for me?

Dani: Yep. You deserve some eye candy, cutie.

Fireblossom: I’m gonna fucking combust over here. Dr. HB is gonna be an orphan because of your cute butt. 

Dani: I think we can do something about that.

Fireblossom: I’m stuck at family dinner time until nine and it’ll be hella sus if I sneak away to the bathroom for that long.

Shit, she should pull back on the teasing. Aubrey is typing something else, and she manages to get the strappy bra off in the time it takes for it to come through. 

Fireblossom: They won’t notice me texting, though.

Dani: You sure? We can totally pick this up later.

Fireblossom: But I wanna make you cum in your fancy underwear ;)

She’s not about to turn that down, texts Aubrey the green light as she rifles through her duffel bag. It’s only a small bullet vibe, but it’s never failed her. Something she’s learned in her twenty years of life is to always have a vibrator on hand when traveling away from your hot girlfriend. 

Dani: Ready. 

Fireblossom: K. Turn on the vibe, but keep it outside the underwear for now. 

The fabric is thin, and she gasps as she rubs the vibe in slow circles over her clit. She flips to voice to text, because now is not the time for an awkward autocorrecting or her one-handed typing. 

Dani: what next?

Fireblossom: Feel yourself up for me, honey. Can’t my hands on those cute tits so you’re gonna have to do it for me. 

She does as she’s told, massaging her chest and teasing her nipples the way Aubrey always does when they’re tangled up on the couch. 

Dani: Fuck that feels good. Still wish they were yours though.

Fireblossom: Soon, beautiful, I promise

She shifts her hold on the vibe, which gets it to just the right angle to curl her toes. 

Dani: Can I go under the fabric?

Fireblossom: Aww, you’re remembered to be good and ask first. Yes, you can.

“Thank god.” She slips the vibe under the silk, closes her eyes and imagines it’s Aubrey using it on her, grinning in that unfairly captivating way of hers as she tells Dani how good she’s being, how good she looks, how she’s so lucky they’re together. 

She picks up the pace, groans when she sees the next text.

Fireblossom: Cum for me, honey, use both hands

Dani shoves her free hand down and pushes two fingers inside, moaning as she envisions Aubrey kissing her as a reward for doing it. It doesn’t take long, she’s been low-key horny all day and turned on ever since she got that first message back from Aubrey. The orgasm is short and satisfying, bursting out from her and making her feel like every one of her limbs is tingling with exhausted delight. 

Dani: Came. Holy fuck. How are you this hot just through a screen?

Fireblossom: A magician never reveals her tricks ;)

Dani: A magician should make an exception for her girlfriend who’s still seeing stars. 

Fireblossom: Flatterer. 

Dani sighs, rolls onto her stomach so she can text more easily, not sure what’s she’s supposed to say now.

Fireblossom: That was really hot though. And now I miss you even more.

Dani: I miss you too, fireblossom. I can’t wait to come back to you. 

Fireblossom: Me neither. Can I Facetime you tonight? 

Dani: Totally.

Fireblossom: If I get lucky, will you help let off all the steam I just built up?

Dani: Of course, babe.

Fireblossom: GTG, nephew is bugging Dr HB. Talk to you soon, you make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world <3

Dani: Don’t be silly. That’s obviously me, because I’ve got you <3

[walnutwhiskers]

Dear Autocorrect,

Holy crap dude, I don't want you to correct my grammar and make me say "something" when I type somethin'. When I'm scrubbin' I don't want to tell you I'm "scrubbing". Finally, my dear sweet spelling correction program, I don't talk about waterfowl nearly enough for you to correct my ducking language.

Yours,

Al

P.S. feel free to keep capitalizing my I's and putting apostrophes in my contractions because I am a forgetful bastard who occasionally needs help with somethin'.